


good night (eyes wide)

by tousled



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Race To The Edge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 22:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17948702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tousled/pseuds/tousled
Summary: The tapping at the edge of Astrid’s hut goes on for several minutes before she realises it’s apersonand not a branch scratching wildly along the wood in the storm.





	good night (eyes wide)

**Author's Note:**

> this is 100% self indulgent fluff that was originally just supposed to be self indulgent kissing, but now it's kinda self indulgent character studies. we deserve more fics that talk about how tuff's scared of the dark, and we deserve more fics about how astrid adores the protector role and it's how she shows love. 
> 
> i listened to honey & i by haim whilst writing this. title is vaguely from it, but not direct lyrics. it's such a warm song, i love haim. you should listen to it.

The tapping at the edge of Astrid’s hut goes on for several minutes before she realises it’s a  _ person  _ and not a branch scratching wildly along the wood in the storm. She’s only in a sleeping tunic, hair a mess and bleary eyes so she thinks about not answering. It’s  _ not  _ her turn for guard duty, and she performed all the necessary storm warden duties earlier in the evening. Obviously it’s not dire otherwise the knocking would be more urgent, and whomever it is (Snotlout, Astrid would bet a yak on it) can just deal with it. 

 

But then, the person knocking at the door makes a frightened little whimper at a flash of lightning and Astrid bolts to the door. 

 

“Tuff?” Astrid asks, flinging it open. If she wasn’t acutely aware of his fear of the dark, and how serious Ruff took the whole thing Tuff’s bedraggled hair and wide eyed look would have been very comical. He’s wet, hair sticking to his forehead and shoulders shaking with the cold. He jumps at another flash of lightning. 

“Can I sleep with you?” He sniffs, curled in on himself and Astrid opens the door even wider, bundling him it. 

 

The distressed little sniff as he steps into the warm reminds Astrid of being six years old and having a sleepover with the twins. Ruff had been curled up, fast asleep as Astrid watches the storm out the window. Tuff, already scared of the funny shadows and the weird knot in the wood he thought looked like a face, and curled up in the furs and whimpered. Astrid, with a front tooth missing, had even less idea what to do and so she offered to fight the lightning. Big blue eyes stared up at her as she shook a stick and yelled at the sky to stop being scary until her mama came into the room to tell them to quieten down. She feels a little like doing that now, lighting a candle so she can find a spare tunic. 

 

“Get out of those clothes baby, you’ll catch a cold.” She says, plucking a stretched out tunic that’ll hopefully fit. She offers it over. 

“Ruff said she’d be back, but she’s not.” Tuff replies, shaking in his wet tunic. He stares at the tunic, not really taking it in before shrugging off his jacket. 

“I know, but she sent that terror mail that said she and Heather had more work to do and the storm was brewing so she was going to stay out.” Astrid offers, tucking the tunic under arms and stepping close to help Tuff focus on the job at hand. She grabs the edge of his wet tunic and tugs lightly. 

“Barf and Belch miss her,” Tuff lifts his arms to let Astrid pull the whole thing off. 

 

“I know,” what Astrid really  _ knows  _ is that Tuff needs his sister to be the terrifying safe presence she is. That  _ he _ misses her. “But she’ll be back tomorrow and then they can spend the whole day with her.” 

“I guess that’s true,” Tuff smiles tentatively, looking up. She offers the stretched out tunic again and this he time takes it. She turns her back, half to give him privacy whilst he’s feeling vulnerable and half to hang up the soaked tunic on her makeshift indoor drying rack. 

 

He looks much comfier when she turns around, hair still wet but he’s found a towel to dry it somewhat and she steps close again, hands falling to his thin hips. He sighs, sinking into her embrace a little and tips forward to soak up the warmth of her body. He reminds her of a princely little night terror that curls up in the sunbeams around the door of the meeting hall every day. She thinks about being six and curling her arms protectively around him. She thinks about how they’re  _ definitely  _ not six anymore. 

 

“If you’re coming into my bed, belt off.” She says, tugging at the leather under her fingers. Tuff snorts, breath tickling her neck so she takes initiative and draws her hands around the front to unbuckle the belt.

“Thanks for letting me crash here.” Tuff mumbles, taking over removing his belt and then, when Astrid steps back to the bed to climb in, his shoes. 

“You know you’re always welcome,” Astrid says. After her awakening she feels groggy and a little delirious;she feels silly and flirty with the way he’s looking at her. Like she’s not in a dirty sleep tunic with a bird’s nest for hair. 

 

“Thanks A,” Tuff smiles, genuine and bright and she feels all warm inside. Warm like sunshine and warm like want. 

“Come to bed,” she orders, “if you need the light leave the candle, otherwise bring it closer so we can blow it out when we’re comfortable.” 

 

Tuff glances over his shoulder to look at the candle, contemplating. There’s another bright flash of lightning and a loud rumbling of thunder so he clearly decides to leave the candle burning, curling into Astrid as she holds the furs up for him to get in. He presses his forehead to her neck and sneaks his arms around tight and Astrid drops the furs, looping her arms securely around him. 

 

She can feel his heartbeat under her fingertips, a fluttering too fast beat that she tries to count. If the fear of the dark and of the storm wasn’t already obvious in the clinging of his arm and the frown on his forehead she could read it in the hop and skip of his heart. She dips her face to press a kiss to his forehead. His skin is cold, and a little clammy from the rain. She tugs him closer, arms tightening and Tuff responds by tightening his own arms. 

 

“A,” he starts, breathing evening out even though his heartbeat picks up a little, “do you think -“ 

Astrid waits for the rest of the sentence, but nothing is forthcoming. “Do I think what?”

“It’s just,” Tuff tries again. “Do you think we could maybe, y’know?”

“ _ Y’know _ ?” Astrid teases, stroking down the centre of his back and Tuff squirms. He draws back a little and Astrid can just make out the serious pout of his lips. She lets his movement pull her arms away from their position and back to the small curve of his hip. 

“We could maybe kiss a little?” He’s blushing, cheeks pink and blotchy and Astrid would  _ love  _ to press her mouth to those cheeks feel their warmth. 

“Aren’t you a gentleviking, asking?” She's still teasing, but every time he asks she feels warm to her core. Gently she leans in and presses a kiss to his left cheekbone. 

 

Tuff squirms again, wriggling closer and Astrid drags her mouth from his cheek, over the bridge of his nose to the other cheek. Her hands have drifted a little lower and one of Tuff’s pauses their movement. She hadn’t been paying too much attention to where she’d been stroking, but they were straying very close to his laces. And perhaps, maybe she’d been happy to explore that route, Tuff’s jumping at every slightly scary noise outside exhibits his nervousness. She shifts her hands back, stroking gently at his side and then rolls them slightly to stretch Tuff out fully on the bed so she can press up against the entire length of his body. 

 

“A,” Tuff breathes, voice low and warm. She can feel the hitch in his breath as his chest shifts against her’s, the stuttering of breath against her lips. 

“I’ll protect you,” she promises and Tuff whines, reaching up to curl his hands around the back of her neck and tug her closer. She settles fully onto him, his breath hitching again and tilts her head to press her mouth to his. 

 

When they were six, Astrid had promised the same thing, sitting up and keeping watch as Tuff buried his face into Ruff’s shoulder. She’d still been scared of the dark herself, but the responsibility of looking out for someone else made her sit straight and keep her eyes peeled until sleep dragged her all the way into slumping over. The next morning over gruel and apples her mama had said she was brave and courageous and little Astrid had puffed up like the yappy dog that sniffs around the markets when a terror tried to steal its bone. At six, Astrid had been ready to fight the sky for him, she doesn’t know why it took her so long to realise what that could mean.

 

Tuff’s fingers dig a little into the muscle of her neck as she plants tiny kiss after kiss against his mouth, never staying longer than a couple of seconds. He whines, trying to pull her closer with that grip. The smile curls up Astrid’s mouth unbidden, and Tuff whines again, shifting so he can get his arm around her neck. Astrid rolls with the movement and kisses him again, longer this time and deeper. She lets him hold her there, letting one hand brushing under the hem of his borrowed tunic and bringing the other up to cup his still cold cheek. 

 

Tuff opens his mouth, trying draw Astrid in but she keeps the kiss steady and warm, rubbing his cheekbone with her thumb. It’s easy to get lost in the open presses of mouth, and Astrid quickly loses track of time. Tuff clearly does too, eyes closed and hands tangling Astrid’s hair even worse than it already was. He leans into Astrid’s lead, contented noises bubbling up his throat as she strokes over the curve of his cheek and along the back of neck and over his shoulder. 

 

There’s another flash of lightning, a good ten seconds before the thunder rumbles through. Tuff’s jump at the noise, although much smaller than before, jolts. Disconnected, Astrid pulls back and palms Tuff’s side, tipping him back fully into the bed and settling herself down next to him to take her weight off his chest. 

 

“It’s okay baby,” she offers, “I’m right here.” 

 

Tuff flushes, obvious enough even in the low light of the candle, and Astrid dips back in to kiss him again. He chases her as she pulls back, lips catching her chin instead and Astrid laughs, soft, and drops her head again for another lingering kiss. 

 

“I can protect you too,” Tuff says, earnest. He looks up through his eyelashes, every single emotion readable on his face. Anyone else and Astrid would be dismissing them, a roll of her eyes. Anyone else and they wouldn’t have worded it that way. Astrid’s filled with warmth at his open expression and serious eyes.

“I know, but it’s my turn to look after you now.” She smiles. She presses a kiss to the side of his nose and the skin under his eye and his eyebrow. “Ruff and Heather will be back to the Edge tomorrow, and Barf and Belch will get to spend plenty of time with the both of you. But for now you’re stuck with me, I’ll look after you.” 

“Hardly  _ stuck, _ ” Tuff replies, still too earnest, too kind. She was joking, a distraction because most of this at its core was worry for his sister as much as the storm upsets him. He tugs at the hinge of Astrid’s jaw wanting to press little soothing kisses to her mouth.

 

And Astrid thinks  _ oh, I could just kiss him forever _ , and well, she certainly tries. 

  
  
  



End file.
